


Anchor My Soul No More

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Drama, During Canon, First Time, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-03
Updated: 2008-07-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Jensen Ackles has always gone for the unattainable, and this time he's really in over his head. He's fallen for Sam Winchester. Jared isn't Sam, he knows this, but is Sam as fictional as he seems or did more than an over active imagination spark the birth of Kripke's Supernatural?





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** This story was inspired by a fic request from angstpuppy at the rpsspnbyrequest community. Her plot bunny can be found here. The title comes from Black Label Society's "Low Down". This was an adventure in writing, especially when I swore I'd never do crossover and what do I do but write RPS/SPN? *facepalm* Oh fandom, look at what you've done to me. On a somewhat dismal note, my beta beat me up for what happens to Chris when he shows up at Bobby's salvage yard. As always beta'd by my little sis, Lissa, so any mistakes... Salt and burn HER ass. So ENJOY! It's broken down into two parts due to length, and review are open in the second part! Don't forget to review!

“Anchor My Soul No More”

By C.K. Blake

 

For angstpuppy who came up with the plotbunny at rpsspnbyrequest! Title from “Low Down” by Black Label Society.

 

He’s sure the trouble started midway through the first season, when Sam leaned in close to say something while Dean was near death. Yes, around the episode of “Faith”. The concern was raw and heartbreaking in Sam’s eyes and Sam smelled like gun oil, sweat and worry. That’s when the trouble started and Kim called cut and he was brought back to the real world and there was just Jared smelling like candy, a huge smile on his face for a scene well done, thumping him on the back. Yeah, that’s when Jensen first began to miss Sam in between takes.

 

It’s more of a problem now, because there’s something strange that happens whenever he’s doing a scene with Jared. It’s more evident now with the filming of the second season finale. When they do scenes together it’s like Jared is possessed. He isn’t Jared, his smell, his movements, the timber of his voice, it all shifts. He is Sam. That’s not the gift of a good actor because an actor can’t just change the way they smell in between real life and a take. That’s not possible, but he knows that if he ever says any of this aloud, it will be admitting that he’s crazy, because he just CANNOT have a thing for Sam Winchester. Mainly because Sam Winchester does NOT exist.

 

If he’s honest with himself he can admit that Jared is a likeable guy. Hell, they are best friends, and Jared’s all grabby, but that’s as far as it goes. There is no behind the scenes fucking. They are just friends, and Jensen wouldn’t want it any other way. Besides, Jared just isn’t Sam. He can’t even compare to Sam. 

 

He hates that he feels this way, that he’s fallen for another someone unattainable. But this one really takes the fucking cake. At least before it had been with straight guys. Like that Justin Hartley he met at a network party. The guy had been married with a kid for Christ’s sakes, but Jensen had been smitten, and who could blame him really? Still, this is worse. So much worse. And it’s killing him, just keeping it to himself. He has his secrets, prides himself on being able to keep so much hidden inside, but this is too much for him to keep to himself.

 

He sighs as Kim calls it a night. He heads on to his trailer, still shaking over the fact that Sam died. He knows that he would make the same deal that Dean had made. Oh yes, in a heartbeat. Anything to have Sam alive and well and real. He knows that he played Dean off as more of a mourning lover than a mourning brother, but seeing Sam so still, the blood so fresh. It didn’t smell like the corn syrup, it was slick and then when it dried it was brown and flaky and smelled coppery and twisted the invisible knife lodged firmly in Jensen’s gut. This episode is really getting to him.

 

He steps into his trailer, closes the door behind him and feels a cool breeze trace up his spine. He shivers and he swears that his breath fogs a little. Damn location in Vancouver freaking Canada. He grabs his knives from the table in front of the sofa and begins to throw them. He’s a little off of his game. He feels something cold guide his arms into a better position and when he throws he hits the target dead center. He feels the cold pull back at the sound of a knock on his door, but a familiar scent lingers in the air, gun oil and sweat.

 

Jensen turns to the door and sighs a little as Jared steps inside, shutting the door behind him and blowing on his hands to warm them up. He raises a brow at Jensen, and Jensen wonders what it is that Jared is seeing. If he can see the truth written all over his face. Jared cocks his head to the side and then shrugs.

 

“Great take, dude. I swear you almost had me in tears. Where’d you learn to cry like that? I swear that was just amazing, and for a moment I really I felt the pain, like something was inside of me and just making my body go with it. Sometimes it’s like I’m not even acting. And you. Dude! Always at the top of your game. S’what I love about working with you,” Jared says, a huge grin on his face, and Jensen steels himself against the pain, because it’s Jared’s voice, not Sam’s, and Sam hardly ever smiles so big like that, although Jensen would love to make Sam smile like that, just once, but he’ll only ever do that as Dean. 

 

Yeah, he really loved filming “Hell House” back when they were doing the prank wars. Sam had been so at ease. Jensen shakes the thought away as a shiver slips up his spine, cold phantom fingers slipping up the bones and tracing along his shoulder. 

 

“Hey, Jen. You okay?” Jared asks.

 

“Yeah,” Jensen replies. “I’m fine. Just thinking real hard.”

 

“Well don’t hurt yourself,” Jared says with a bright laugh, and then adds, “So come on. Put on a coat and we’ll go check out the bar. Chris is in town, right? That ought to cheer ya up some.”

 

So that is how Jensen finds himself at the bar, sitting next to Chris while Jared goes to have a word with Tommy Welling. Jared was the one to call and tell Chris about meeting them up at the bar. Jensen smiles. Yeah, Jared can be real thoughtful when it counts, but he’s still not Sam.

 

Jensen lets out a sigh then he feels a sharp elbow nudge his arm, and he turns to look at one of his closest and probably oldest friends in this town. Christian fucking Kane, redneck asshole extraordinaire, but loyal to a fault.

 

“Wanna tell me ‘bout it Jenny? Cause I know you’re pining, son. Ain’t the kid, is it? Cause I know how you sometimes go for the unattainable,” Chris says softly.

 

Jensen snorts out a laugh. “You have no fucking idea. I swear I’m really fucked this time, Chris. I mean, damn.”

 

“Wanna go home and talk it out, cause he ain’t too far off and you probably don’t want him to hear this,” Chris offers.

 

Jensen shivers against the cold pressed against his left shoulder and hovering against his back, and nods at Chris. He follows Chris out of the bar and they end up sitting in Jensen’s truck, Chris behind the wheel. They aren’t going anywhere, just have the heater turned on and they’re sitting in silence, Chris waiting on Jensen to tell him how bad he’s fucked.

 

“Am I gonna have to pull teeth? Cause I wore the good shirt tonight,” Chris finally says to break the silence.

 

Jensen shakes his head and looks at Chris with a sad smile. “I’m a goner. I mean it’s every day on set, the same thing, and the latest episode is gonna kill me, because… I… I can’t watch him die. I can’t fucking take holding him in my arms while he’s dying and feeling him go cold and still in my arms, and then having that whole bedside vigil scene. It’s fucking killing me.”

 

Chris gives him a ‘what the fuck’ look, and says, “You know it’s just a show. I mean I know you get wrapped up in your characters, but Jared doesn’t really die.”

 

“But Sam did,” Jensen blurts and then covers his mouth, wondering where that came from.

 

Chris’ eyes widen. “Son, you tryin’ to tell me that… No. Please tell me this is some big fucking joke, and Jared’s gonna come running out of the bar any second now with his pants on his head and his dick hangin’ out.”

 

Jensen swallows and can’t meet Chris’ eyes, because there is no punch line. Chris takes the silence as his answer and hisses through his teeth. “So, you’ve gone and fallen for a character in a show for a teeny bopper network? That’s fucked, Jenny. Seriously fucked.”

 

“You don’t get it though. I mean when we do the scenes, it’s not Jared playing Sam, it’s really Sam. I mean Jared smells like candy and that fruity cologne he practically bathes in, but on set he smells like gun oil and sweat, and something else. It’s not Jared. It’s been like this since the first day on set, but it got really bad half way through the first season. I’m telling you, Sam is real. I don’t know how but he is. And he takes over Jared when we film. I guess Jared opens himself to the role and Sam can just slip inside or something,” Jensen says and then he’s cut off when Chris holds his hands up and says, “Whoa. Are you even listening to yourself? You make it sound like Sam’s a ghost. He isn’t real, Jen. Never was. He’s just someone Kripke made up. You need to get away as soon as hiatus comes up. You’re really crackin’ here, man.”

 

Jensen is about to respond when his door is pulled open and two large hands grip his shirt and coat and then warm lips are pressed against his and he’s surrounded by the smell of gun oil, sweat and Sam, and he’s kissing him back. Because this is Sam and he knows it deep down in his gut. The cold finally gets to him and he hears Chris say, “Damn son! I knew this was some kind of joke.”

 

Sam looks up and narrows his eyes on Chris and Jensen wants to pull Sam’s face back down into another kiss, but Sam’s not having it. “Fuck you, asshole. I’m real. Your friend’s not crazy. If you’d just look me up or ask Kripke about the time he had gremlins fucking with his electricity you’d know that. He’ll tell you about us,” Sam growls and then he focuses back on Jensen and smiles sadly. “I’m sorry, Jensen. I don’t have much time. He usually only lets me in during filming. You’re amazing. You have Dean down to a science. I got lucky this time, that guy that plays Lex Luther got Jared to go for the worm in a bottle of Cuervo, he’s coming back though.”

 

“No,” Jensen replies desperately, his fingers tightening in the collar of Jared’s thick parka, but the Sam smell is already fading, and Jensen’s heart is breaking a little, until he feels the cold press of phantom fingers on his left shoulder. 

 

“Jensen?” Jared asks, his brow furrowing in confusion as he looks around. “How the fuck I get out here? Did Mike like do something to me?”

 

Jensen lets go of Jared’s coat, takes in a breath to steel himself and shakes his head, before he opens the door to the extended cab and says, “Get in, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you drive home like this.”

 

Jared complies, and those cold phantom fingers linger on Jensen’s shoulder the entire ride back to his rented house, and every now and then he feels Chris’ eyes on him, because Chris has to see that Jensen’s not making this up. It’s real, of that there is no doubt in Jensen’s mind.

 

\----------

 

They’ve finished the first scene and Kim calls for a break, and Kripke has just arrived to look after the finale of his baby. Jensen sees his chance and walks up to Kripke, grabs the man’s shoulder and says, “Eric, we need to talk.”

 

Kripke gives Jensen an odd look, but then nods and makes a gesture toward Jensen’s trailer. Once inside, Jensen closes the door firmly behind them and watches as Kripke takes a seat on the sofa. Jensen paces and runs his hand through his hair, not caring if wardrobe bitches at him. Finally he stops and faces Kripke. 

 

“Tell me about the Winchesters.”

 

Kripke takes in a sharp breath and lets it out slowly. “As far as I know they’re dead. Dean died first, saving Sam. Sam took care of Dean’s burial and then he got killed down in Dallas, Texas. He was after a black dog or a hellhound or something. It happened a couple of weeks before we called you to read for us. Now, how about you tell me how you know they’re real?”

 

Jensen swallows. “I’m not criticizing Jared’s acting skills. I think he’s amazing, but when we do a scene together, it’s not Jared. I’m acting with Sam.”

 

“What?” Kripke asks, surprise evident in his voice. “That’s impossible. Bobby and Ellen handled Sam’s burial themselves. There’s no way he’s around.”

 

“But he is, Eric, and last night when Jared got drunk, Sam slipped in and kissed me.”

 

“What? But he wouldn’t. I mean you’re a dead ringer for his brother Dean, no pun intended,” Kripke replies.

 

“But he did. I know it wasn’t Jared last night. The smell was all wrong. Sam always smells like gun oil and sweat. So you tell me I’m fucking crazy. Come on, Eric! Because I have to be, right? I mean, how is this even possible?” Jensen snaps.

 

Kripke shrugs and leans back into the sofa. “I don’t know. I just know the Winchesters are dead, and their cut of the show I’ve split between Bobby Singer and Ellen Harvelle. Sometimes they help me with the details I need for the show. You know just little things. I don’t know how Sam could linger like this. Unless, maybe he found you before you did the reading. Maybe when he died he ended up in L.A. He saw you, thought Dean, and chose to stay.”

 

“Do you think there’s a way to bring him back?” Jensen asks.

 

Kripke gives him a sharp look. “Why would you even want to do that?”

 

“He chose me. At least that’s what it feels like, and you just… He’s always around. I feel him watching me all the time, and I know he’s there. Lately it’s just these cold touches. It’s kind of reassuring. You can’t tell anyone. No one on set can know. Not even Jared. And when we’re done filming you tell me how I can reach Bobby. I’m assuming he’s the one with all the know how. Or Ellen if you can’t swing Bobby.”

 

“They won’t help you, Jensen. The dead are better left that way.”

 

“If they were, if he is, then why would he possess Jared and kiss me?” Jensen snarls, and honestly, Kripke can’t answer that.

 

\----------

 

It’s a relief to sit down in the seat in first class. He lets the seat drop back and prepares for the flight to South Dakota. The seat next to his is empty, he reserved two seats on the flight and he can feel the cold reassurance of Sam against his left side. 

 

Once they’ve landed Jensen rents a car, and follows the directions Kripke gave him. It takes him nearly four hours to find the salvage yard, but it’s there. He drives through the gate, gets out of the car, and feels a firm grip of cold on his right shoulder as he approaches the door of the old, weather beaten house. He lifts his hand to knock on the door and the grip tightens.

 

He raps his knuckles against the door, hears movement inside and then he’s pulled back by his shoulder just in time as the door is jerked open and a shotgun is leveled at his face. He swallows thickly and the gun is lowered to point at his chest as a man that looks remarkably like Jim Beaver just gapes at him.

 

“Holy Christ! Dean?”

 

Jensen shakes his head. “No. My name’s Jensen Ackles. I’m an actor.”

 

Bobby raises the gun to Jensen’s face again. “You got two seconds to convince me not to blow your fool head off.”

 

“Sam’s with me,” Jensen blurts, and the shotgun sags in the man’s grip and he lifts his nose in the air and sniffs. 

 

“Damn, ozone. There’s something with you, that ain’t no lie. You come inside and tell me how you heard of me and what you know of this Sam.”

 

Five minutes later Jensen is sitting in Bobby Singer’s kitchen, nursing a beer and telling Bobby about being haunted by Sam Winchester. Bobby still doesn’t look too convinced. He’s staring hard at Jensen and Jensen is starting to twitch under the scrutiny when all of a sudden Bobby takes a flask from his back pocket, twists the cap off, and slings water at him. The water lands on the crotch of his designer blue jeans, and Jensen stands up, his chair skittering backwards as he brushes at the water on his crotch and glares at the older man.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

The older man snickers. “Just had to make sure you weren’t possessed.”

 

“So now that we’ve established that I’m not possessed or crazy, how about we try to find some answers. Can we bring him back?” Jensen snaps.

 

Bobby narrows his eyes and gets to his feet. “And why would you want to go and do a damn fool thing like that? The dead are better left at rest, son. Now you best leave.”

 

“He’s not resting! He’s possessing my co-star and kissing me. He’s touching me and he won’t leave me alone. And I don’t want him to stop. I want him alive,” Jensen says.

 

“It’s all about what you want. What about what Sam wants?”

 

“He’s the one following me around! Why don’t you bring him back and ask him!”

 

“It ain’t that easy!”

 

“You either help me or I’ll find a crossroad. I know a demon can do it if I make a deal.”

 

Bobby’s eyes widen and his nostrils flare. “You’re as big a damn fool as Dean Winchester! I swear that boy had a death wish. How you think he died? It was that deal he made! You wanna go the same way? You think Sam would want that?”

 

“But I’d still do it,” Jensen says, his tone broaching no argument.

 

Bobby shakes his head and then sighs. “Fine. I’ll help you. Not for you. For Sam. I’d know that smell of gun oil, sweat, and Winchester any day. Lord knows I’ve patched that boy up enough times to recognize his smell. We’ll need blood. Not yours though. I’m guessing if you’re from Kripke’s show the kid playing Sam looks an awful lot like him, and Sam’s possessing him, so they’re connected. We’ll need blood from him. When Sam’s brought back they’ll be kind of like brothers. You get his blood, and I’ll help you do the rest. That sound fair?”

 

Jensen nods. “Yeah.”

 

“And don’t you go doin’ no stupid shit like summoning demons. You get that blood and come straight back here,” Bobby snaps, and then as an after thought he says, “Oh, and since Sam’s riding shot gun, I got you a ride. I’ll see that the rental gets taken back.”

 

Jensen’s eyes widen. “You don’t mean…”

 

“She’s out back beneath the cover. Got her old plate back and fresh rock tapes are still in the front seat. She’s yours for now. Give Sam something familiar to stretch out in. I bet he’s missed the old girl,” Bobby replies and tosses Jensen a set of keys.

 

Jensen steps out of the back door and sees the only car with a cover on it. He approaches the car reverently, pulls the cover away and sucks in a breath. Sleek, black, chrome in all the right places. He runs his fingers along the hood and glances down at her plate. Kansas. KAZ 2Y5. Metallicar back in black, holy shit, and he gets to drive her. He opens the door, slips behind the wheel and lets his fingers slide along the dash. She’s beautiful, everything the prop cars are not. 

 

He notices the passenger side window ice up and then a large handprint stands out before it thaws, and Jensen knows that Sam is riding shotgun. He looks at the tapes in the box in the front seat. He moves them to the floorboard, but not before picking a tape and slipping it into the cassette player. He turns the engine over and the car is filled with the sound of Kansas and “Carry On My Wayward Son”. The car seems to give a small shudder like a sigh, and Jensen feels cold glide across his cheek as he pulls out of the salvage yard and heads toward Texas, because Jared always spends the first two weeks of summer hiatus in San Antonio with his family.

 

\----------

 

A few days on the road in the most bad ass car he’s ever been in with the ghost of a demon hunter riding shot is a very interesting experience to say the least, especially when that ghost plays hide the motel soap, and gives icy wet willies in the middle of the night. Jensen would call it playful if it weren’t so annoying when he’s trying to sleep and adjust to the fact that this is real. 

 

Finally he’s in San Antonio, and pulling into the Padalecki’s driveway. There is a big Chevy truck in the driveway that Jensen assumes is a rental. He parks behind the truck. He cuts the engine, takes a breath and feels a cold pressure on his arm, a gesture of reassurance. 

 

“So, let’s get this over with,” Jensen says, and the pressure tightens for a moment before it lifts completely. 

 

Jensen gets out of the car, walks up the driveway to the front door of the Padalecki home. He knocks on the door and plasters a smile on his face despite the nervous tension flooding through his veins. 

 

The door is pulled opened and a surprised Jared is staring at him. “Jensen? Hey man, what are you doing here?”

 

Jensen shrugs. “I was on my way in to Richardson, and stopped here along the way. You know, doin’ a little road trippin’ to clear my head.”

 

Jared nods and then he catches sight of the Impala in the drive. He sucks in a breath and brushes past Jensen to look at the car. “Holy shit! How’d you get Eric to lend you the Metallicar? I mean, he barely lets us take her out for a scene!”

 

“This isn’t a prop Jay. It’s the real thing. Down to the last detail. Ain’t she pretty?” Jensen asks, pride coloring his tone.

 

Jared turns to him with a dumbfounded expression. “You mean you had a replica built? Shit! Bet that cost like a fortune!”

 

“Actually she’s on loan for now from a friend. Her owner’s not quite himself and he thought I could take her out for a drive to give her some fresh air. So you gonna invite me in or we just gonna hang out in the damn heat all day?”

 

Jared shakes his head. “Yeah, sure man. And hey, this isn’t about the other night is it? I swear I don’t know how it happened. I mean. I remember you dumping me on your couch, so how I made it to your bed… Yeah…” Jared says and scratches the back of his head.

 

“Naw man, that’s totally cool. I mean, you’ve been known to sleep walk before right? I remember something your momma said about you sleep walking.”

 

“Actually that’s more Jeff’s thing, but I’ve done it maybe once or twice,” Jared replies a little awkwardly.

 

“Sure, yeah,” Jensen says and he wonders if this could get any more awkward.

 

The awkward eventually fades around talking, beer, and video games. When Jared’s mother comes home Jensen helps bring in the groceries and he’s invited to dinner and to stay the night. 

 

This is how Jensen finds himself in the guestroom down the hall from Jared’s bedroom, wondering how he’s going to get the blood he needs for Sam.

 

Jensen sits down on the edge of the bed. He leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clutching his head. He feels a vibration in his pocket, sits up, shifts and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. He looks at the id, flips the phone open and then says, “Yeah, Chris.”

 

“Hey, just calling to check up on ya, son. How are things with the ghost boy? And hell, where are ya?”

 

“Sam’s fine. I think I’ve found a way to bring him back. Right now I’m at Jared’s parents’ house. I need something from Jared before I can bring Sam back.”

 

“You sure about this? Cause this Sam guy’s dead. This is getting into some pretty heavy shit. I mean how can someone be brought back, Jen?”

 

“I don’t know the details, man. I just know that if there’s a way I’ll do it. I’d even make a deal at the crossroads.”

 

“Have you even listened to yourself? I mean I get that you work on a show about the supernatural. Hell, I’ve been there, done that, but you can’t honestly expect that it’s real. This is crazy. It ain’t like you.”

 

“But he’s real! You’ve seen it. You’ve seen him,” Jensen replies.

 

“I saw Jared drunk off his ass.”

 

“That’s bull shit.”

 

“Okay, so I don’t know what I saw, but you’re putting too much into this! You’re talking ghost stories and people that don’t even exist!”

 

“Sam Winchester was a real person, he had an older brother Dean, and Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, even their dad John, they’re real. Kripke told me! Hell, I’ve met Bobby and I’m driving their car, the real ’67 Impala, and man she’s a sweet ride. Explain that to me.”

 

“I’m still sayin’ you shouldn’t get your hopes up. What if this doesn’t pan out, and hell man, you play his brother on TV. Why would he want you like that?” Chris asks, and there’s a knock on the door.

 

“Look, I gotta go. I’ll call ya later, and tell Steve I said hey.”

 

“Jen, look out for you.”

 

Jensen flips the phone shut and looks up as the door opens. For a moment he thinks it’s Jared but then the smell of gun oil, sweat, and Sam surrounds him, and Chris’ concerns play back in his mind. He sighs as he looks away and says, “I’m not Dean.”

 

Sam smiles, small and simple. “I know that. When I first found you I thought, maybe, but then I noticed things about you, and you’re so different from him. Dean never would have…” Sam trails off and runs a hand through his hair.

 

“You loved him, didn’t you?” Jensen asks.

 

“Of course I did. He was my brother.”

 

“No,” Jensen replies.

 

Sam nods. “But he didn’t feel the same way. He raised me, protected me, but it never came to that. God, I wanted it to, but it never did. It never would have. So, you still want me alive, knowing this?”

 

Jensen swallows. “I want you. But you can’t expect me to be him. Is that why you’re still around? Is that why you kissed me? You think you can have him through me?”

 

Sam smiles again, warm and peaceful, and the hand is warm against Jensen’s cheek as Sam sits down next to Jensen on the bed in the guestroom of the Padalecki household. “This isn’t about Dean. It’s about you, and when I saw who you are. I’ll always love Dean. Like I said, he was my brother. I know you aren’t him, Jensen, and I still care about you. I see you wake up, fix coffee, go over your lines, look at scripts. I watch you do the damn crossword and want to tell you the word when you get stumped. You’re as close to normal as I’ve found since Jessica, but you know who I am, what my family’s done, and you still want me.”

 

“I always want the unattainable,” Jensen replies with a snort.

 

“I’m right here, with you. Once we get this back to Bobby,” Sam says and he holds out a zip lock bag with a bloody tissue in it, “I’m yours. I want you Jensen. I want you. I have since I saw you do that scene where you were Dean and you were making love to that girl that played Cassie. God, you have no idea what that was like. It hurt when Dean did that, but seeing you and her, even though I knew it wasn’t real, I wanted to tear her apart just for being able to touch you when I couldn’t. When I’m alive again, I’ll make that up to. I’ll fuck you, make love to you, until I’m all you’ll ever want for the rest of our lives. And you don’t have to worry about money. I’ve got a trust fund that I started back in college. It’s still collecting interest, so I’m not after your money. I’m just after you.”

 

“Yeah, and this whole Patrick Swayze thing is gettin' pretty old,” Jensen says with a smirk and Sam knocks Jared’s shoulder into his.

 

“I know, but when I come out of this alive, you’re explaining to your friend Jared, why I call him Whoopi, or at the very least Oda Mae.”

 

Jensen laughs softly. “Deal.”

 

Sam shifts and then his mouth, Jared’s mouth, is pressed against Jensen’s in a soft kiss full of promises. Sam pulls back too quickly for Jensen’s tastes and then gets up. “I should get back to his room. He could wake up any time, and you’ve got something you need to take care of,” Sam says in way of an explanation as he looks pointedly at Jensen’s crotch and slips out of the door, closing it carefully behind him.

 

Jensen groans in frustration at his semi-hard cock, and then proceeds to take care of it. Just one more thing that Sam has to make up to him.

 

\----------

 

Jensen barely remembers saying goodbye to Jared and his family, and the drive from Texas back to South Dakota, just one long blur. He’s pretty sure that Sam has managed to save him and the Impala from a couple of near misses. He’s just distracted, because this is it, and it’s huge. He isn’t crazy. He’s really about to witness a man being brought back from the dead. A man that he’s actually fallen for.

 

By the time they reach South Dakota Bobby has everything set up. He doesn’t look too happy to see Jensen back and with the blood, but what can he do, it’s either this or another actor making a deal with the devil. Personally the world could do with one less actor, but this one wears Dean’s face and for some reason he just can’t bring himself to say no. Never could with John’s damn boys.

 

Now the ritual is reaching its climatic point. Unlike the show it’s taken hours to get to this point, and the burning herbs, especially the sage and patchouli are finally getting to Jensen’s sinuses, but still he stares into the center of the circle where Bobby’s laid out the bloody tissue, some of Sam’s clothes and a strange bronze amulet, one that’s like the prop he wears when he’s playing Dean. Only this amulet is much more detailed.

 

Bobby’s muttering in a language so far from what Jensen would recognize as Latin that it’s lost on the young man, and just when Jensen’s eyes slip shut his elbow slips on his knee and he jolts awake. There’s a mist, pale and gold forming within the circle. The mist twists and conforms and begins to thicken into something solid. 

 

Jensen watches stunned as the mist shapes arms and long legs, a torso, head, hair. Once the body is fully formed the mouth flies open and air is sucked into lungs and then the body lurches and twists in what looks like pain. Hoarse groans and screams rip from a throat newly formed and Jensen watches in horror as the body writhes, cuts slashing across the upper left arm like invisible claw marks, a hole forming in the right shoulder, a mark slipping low across the abdomen like a knife wound, and just as quickly as the wounds occur they fade into scars, and Jensen watches as a lifetime of battle scars take shape in a matter of seconds, until finally the last ones, claw marks raked down the chest and back, and bite marks in the left shoulder, form and scar over. 

 

The body gives one last jerk, then stiffens and comes to rest in the center of the circle. Jensen rushes forward, not caring that Bobby’s yelling about him being a damn fool and breaking the circle. He lands on his knees next to the scarred and worn body of a man that looks almost like Jared’s twin, but there’s the smell of gun oil and sweat and Sam strong in the air. 

 

He swallows thickly as he lowers his hand, traces his fingers along the bite marks over Sam’s shoulders and lets out a sigh of relief as he notices the shallow rise and fall of Sam’s chest. He’s breathing. He spreads his hand wide over Sam’s heart and there’s a steady thrum and something like electricity shoots up into his hands and there’s a strange light engulfing him, it’s a light blue that combines with the green that he’s just noticed surrounding him and it melds together, and he knows without a doubt that he’s connected to Sam, has been for well over two years now.

 

He takes in a breath, lifts his gaze to Sam’s face, and he gasps as a cough escapes Sam’s mouth and his eyes slowly flutter open. Sam’s eyes are bright green and looking at him in awe. Sam tries to lift a hand to Jensen’s face, but he’s too weak to lift it very far. Jensen takes his hand and guides it up. Sam smiles softly at him, and in a hoarse voice he says, “Can finally touch you, Jen… Jensen.”

 

Jensen shifts his face towards Sam’s hand and presses his lips firmly against Sam’s palm. “I know,” he whispers. “And ‘bout damn time.”

 

“Hey, not to break up the touching moment and all, but aren’t you a little cold there, Sam?” Bobby asks.

 

Jensen looks up sharply at the older man, but when he turns back to Sam he realizes that Sam is indeed very, very naked. Bobby grabs a blanket from his old beat up couch, throws it over Sam and between him and Jensen they get Sam to one of the spare rooms on the ground floor of Bobby’s house. 

 

It isn’t long before Sam’s drifted off to sleep, and then Jensen finds himself in Bobby’s kitchen sitting at the worn table while Bobby heats up some left over stew on the stove. He can practically feel the man’s eyes burning a hole in him and when Bobby finally sets a beer down in front of him and has a seat at the table, he looks up and snaps, “Why the hell didn’t you tell me it would hurt him? Why the fuck didn’t you say something?”

 

Bobby shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Would it have made a difference? You do something like this, you don’t think there’s a price to pay? That’s the price, he relives all the pain from his life, every scar has to reform. It’s what makes him who he is. It’s what makes him a Winchester. You want him, you get the whole package, those scars are a part of it. The hurt is a part of him. That’s his price to pay, but damn, boy, you’re payin’ just as much as Sam! What the hell were you thinkin’ breakin’ that circle like that?! I told you to keep out until it was done!”

 

“What the hell was I supposed to do? He needed someone and you sure as hell weren’t doing a damn thing but letting him suffer!” Jensen snarls.

 

“I was bringing him back to life. His body had to form, but you broke the circle just as his soul was joining it! Are you out of your mind?! You touched him as his soul melded with his body! You’re a part of him now! He can’t leave you,” Bobby growls, and then lets out a stale laugh, “And you, Mr. Hollywood, are just as much his as he’s yours. There’s no leavin’ him. You’re stuck with him, all the bad and the good, can’t be no one else for you but him.”

 

“What are you saying, exactly?”

 

“Boy, your souls joined, there ain’t no breakin’ that. You wanted him alive, you got him. That’s the price you pay. You’re a damn fool. Dean probably would have done the same thing though, or resold his soul, bless the boy. He’s just lucky Sam made the demon go back on her word at the last minute. The bitch short changed him by a day so the deal was broken, that’s why Dean got peace in the after.” Bobby sighs and then adds, “There’s a price for everything you do, you know. It’s the devil’s due. I’m just as much a fool for helpin’ you. And someday it’ll bite me in the ass, but till then you mind him. That boy’s had a hard life. You see to it that it gets easier and you hurt him, I’ll hunt you down myself. As it is, I don’t see him going back to the hunt. Sam’s always wanted normal. And he gets stuck with you. Christ, a man that could be Dean’s twin, even down to being as stubborn and damn stupid.”

 

“He’s nothing like Dean,” Sam says from the doorway, and both men look up at the last remaining Winchester clad in boxers and a white t-shirt. 

 

Jensen knocks back his chair in his rush to get to Sam, and he helps Sam down into a chair and shakes his head. “You just came back from the dead. So what in the hell are you doing out of bed?”

 

“What are you? Dr. Seuss?” Sam asks, and then a coughing fit hits him. Bobby gets him a glass of water and Jensen helps Sam drink it, and once his throat is wet, Sam continues, “Bobby, I know you mean well, but stop it. Just lay off.”

 

“But do you realize what he’s done?” Bobby snaps.

 

Sam snorts. “Are you forgetting that I’m the psychic Winchester?”

 

Jensen stiffens at this and Sam turns to him with a smile. “Visions, telekinesis, empathy, a little bit of everything all rolled into little ol’ me. Still think I’m a catch?” Sam asks, and then he drops his gaze to the table, his fingers absently sliding up and down along his glass of water.

 

“I didn’t know it would hurt,” Jensen blurts in reply.

 

“It doesn’t matter. I’m here, and I never thought I’d miss breathing so much. And I can touch you. Me, not my fingers slipping through you or taking over someone else to just pretend that I’m touching you. I think the price is worth it,” Sam replies.

 

“What about the other thing?” Jensen asks, his cheeks burning as his eyes find the same scar on the table that Sam seems so fixated on.

 

Sam reaches across the table and covers Jensen’s hand with his. “I’ve always been big on monogamy. If you’re it for the rest of my life then I think I can live with it. The question is, can you? I mean, now that I’m attainable?”

 

“I guess I have to, but I mean, why me? Really, Sam? Why me?” Jensen asks.

 

Sam sighs and then shifts his gaze to Bobby. “Not here, Jen. Maybe later when it’s just us, but not here.”

 

Bobby nods in acceptance of that, because there are some things that only Winchesters and their own are meant to know. He gets up and takes the pot off the burner. The stew is warm enough.

 

\----------

 

Jensen helps Sam into bed, pulling the covers around him, kind of like the way he would sometimes tuck in McKenzie when he was younger and she woke up from nightmares. He’s about to back away and get the light when Sam reaches out and catches his wrist. 

 

“Where are you going?” he asks, and Jensen swallows.

 

“You just came back, Sam. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” 

 

“Hey, I’m not made out of glass. Just lay with me. It’s been so long, and I’ve seen you sleep for years, now I want to feel you sleep instead of just watch. You’d be amazed at how tired you can get of just watching.”

 

Jensen nods. “Okay, but you let me know if it gets weird, okay? I mean, this can’t be easy, the binding thing, being brought back from the dead, and… I know I look him.”

 

Sam huffs up as Jensen slips under the covers, but keeps it so there’s still distance between them. “We’ve been through this. I know you’re not Dean. Dean went out fighting, the way he wanted to. I was the one that stuck around, and I found you. Now you move your ass over here and keep me warm or leave for good right the fuck now. You have about ten seconds to decide and then we get to see just how strong my abilities are since I’ve come back.”

 

It doesn’t take Jensen long to sidle up along Sam’s body and curl up. Sam lets out a sigh of contentment. “You’re really not like him at all.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Jensen asks. 

 

Sam laughs a little. “Dean would have fought the issue, now how about some sleep?”

 

Jensen grins a little and shifts closer, letting his foot slide up along Sam’s calf as he presses his lips lightly against Sam’s and whispers, “Feels good finally touching you.”

 

Sam sighs. “Yeah, tell me about it.”


	2. TWO

Sunlight is slipping through the curtains, but that isn’t what wakes Jensen and Sam up. 

 

There is a loud blast from a shotgun and Bobby’s cussin’ up a storm and it sounds like it’s coming from the front door. Sam is the first out of bed and Jensen follows as Sam heads down the small hall and to the door where Bobby’s standing on the porch, gun aimed and yelling at someone. Jensen steps up behind Sam and looks around the taller man. His eyes widen as he realizes who Bobby’s shooting at.

 

He steps around Sam, knocks the shotgun up just as Bobby fires again and the shot takes out a few shingles and puts a hole in the roof over Bobby’s porch. Bobby turns a fierce glare on him, but Jensen runs down the porch and shouts out, “Chris?”

 

Christian Kane’s head pops out from behind the remains of a ’54 Buick. He’s all wide-eyed and twitchy as he slowly slips out from behind the car and approaches Jensen with caution. Apparently he’s still shaken up from being shot at.

 

“Christ man, you weren’t returning your calls so I called Jared, and he said you’d gone to see your parents, but your momma hadn’t heard from you, so then I called Kripke and he gave me this address, and said you might be here. Next thing I know I show up and I’m gettin' my ass shot at! Damn son! What the hell? And how come Jared can answer my calls when you can’t?” Chris asks and he gives a nod toward Sam who’s stepped out on the porch.

 

“Um, that’s not Jared,” Jensen replies.

 

Chris’ eyes widen. “What?”

 

“The guy shooting at you is Bobby Singer, and he brought Sam back. That’s Sam Winchester,” Jensen replies.

 

“I think I need a drink, cause there’s no way in hell I’m handlin’ this sober, son.”

 

“Who the hell you got comin’ to see you at my place?” Bobby shouts at Jensen.

 

Jensen sighs and turns around. “He’s a friend of mine, Christian Kane.”

 

“He another actor, Hollywood?”

 

“Naw, he sings country,” Jensen snaps and he leads a shaky Chris towards the house.

 

“Singing ain’t much of a step up,” is Bobby’s reply as they slip past him and into the house.

 

\----------

 

Jensen’s glad to be back on his own with Sam. Hanging out with Chris and Steve on tour is nice, but there are too many questions for Jensen’s comfort, and he wants to get to know Sam inside and out before he shares him with anyone else. Call him selfish, but damn; he’s part of the reason Sam’s even alive.

 

There’s also a strange line drawn between them. They share a bed, they talk, eat, sleep together, but that’s all, it’s mostly platonic except when he wakes up with Sam either wrapped around him or fighting and crying out from a nightmare. They haven’t done anything beyond the kisses Jensen sneaks in on Sam, and this has Jensen worried. Maybe life opened Sam up to the freedom he could have if he weren’t tied to someone like Jensen Ross Ackles. 

 

He lets out a sigh as he shifts in the passenger’s seat of the Impala and wonders where Sam is taking them. He let’s his head fall against the seat, his fears eating away at his brain, because maybe having Sam around in the flesh is asking too much. Who knows what death might have done to him? 

 

Apparently he dozes off because when he opens his eyes after a large hand gives his shoulder a shake he realizes that it’s dusk. He sits up and looks around. His eyes widen as he realizes they are at a cemetery, and he wonders if maybe Sam’s trying to relive his old life. Christ, he’s an actor, he can act like Dean Winchester, but that is a far cry from being an actual hunter. He’s seen the scars that Sam carries, and he knows without a doubt that he isn’t that brave or that strong.

 

“Relax,” Sam says. “We’re not here for a job. I just wanted to…”

 

“To what? Where are we, Sam?” Jensen asks.

 

Sam sighs. “We’re in Lawrence, Kansas. My mom is buried at this cemetery, and Dean’s buried on one side of her and my dad’s got a marker on the other side of her.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“I wanted my ashes scattered in Glenoma, Washington, where Dean was killed.”

 

“But why? They’re your family.”

 

Sam shrugs. “It didn’t feel right. Guess I just wasn’t ready. I mean even after I was salted down and burned I still stuck around. I found you.”

 

“So, are you going to get out and go see them?” Jensen asks.

 

“I thought we could do it together. I haven’t been back here since the night I salted and burned Dean’s body. I couldn’t risk him staying behind. He needed to move on. God knows he deserved it,” Sam says, his voice barely above a whisper.

 

“Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want,” Jensen replies, and his breath hitches in his throat as Sam takes his hand and twines their fingers together.

 

“I’ve never been good with jumping into things. I know it’s a little slow going right now, but I want you, Jen. I’ve wanted you for a while. It’s just a big deal adjusting to being alive again. I’m still trying to get use to the fact that I can breathe, touch you, not to mention that I can actively get off now rather than watch you getting off with your hand around your cock, your eyes shut, and my name on your lips,” Sam says with a sly and knowing grin and a mischievous twinkle, and it’s something that Jensen likes seeing on Sam.

 

“So, we’re really doing this? Sure you’re ready?”

 

Sam pulls his hands back and nods, and then they get out of the car. Sam sets out across the bright green grass, and Jensen follows him to a nice spot beneath the shade of a well-groomed dogwood. There are three graves at rest there, the headstones simple. One for John E. Winchester, Mary L. Winchester, and Dean Winchester.

 

Jensen stands back and watches as Sam nears the graves, he gives a nod at the marker for his father. Takes in a breath and bends down to trace the letters of his mother’s name. Then he reaches Dean’s grave. He goes down on his knees before the simple, flat head stone. Dean Winchester. January 24, 1979 – May 16, 2004. Quiet Hero. Beloved Brother.

 

“He died one day before his deal was done. He went out with a fight. It was a real nasty haunting. An exorcism gone wrong that left the spirit of the possessed and the demon it possessed tied to the house where they died. It was a Native American family. I can’t remember why they called us, but they did. It may have had something to do with the skin walker we took care of for them a year earlier, who knows. We were nearly finished with the exorcism of the demon from the ghost, when something went wrong. We tried to keep the family out, but the mother came back into the house. She broke the circle. I tried to stop her, but it was too late. She died almost instantly and then the thing came after me. Dean got into its way. He didn’t stop fighting until it was dead and hell bound. His wounds were mortal though, but left him with enough time to make it to the last day of his year. He was so cut up he couldn’t even speak. It was five minutes till midnight, five minutes until May seventeenth. It nearly killed me, but I put a bullet in his head, and the deal was broken, better to kill my brother than leave him to burn in hell for all of eternity,” Sam says, his voice stiff, formal, emotion carefully extracted from the story.

 

Jensen slowly approaches as Sam traces over the letters on the headstone marking Dean’s grave. “He always gave everything for me. Even when we were kids. I’d get the last bit of cereal. If there was only enough money for one toy I got the toy. He always turned the TV to what I wanted to watch, even if he bitched about it. I wanted to prove that I could save him as much as he always saved me. I saved him from hell, but it wasn’t enough, he’s still gone,” Sam whispers, and Jensen kneels down next to Sam, puts an arm across Sam’s trembling shoulder and pulls him up against him.

 

“You gave him peace, Sam. That counts for something. Even he would say it was enough,” Jensen says softly, and then Sam shifts and Jensen finds himself on his back, laid out flat on Dean Winchester’s grave, Sam’s mouth against his, kissing him with a ferocity not unlike ownership. 

 

Jensen pushes up against Sam’s chest, because this isn’t right. Their first time won’t be on Dean Winchester’s grave; it’s not right for Dean’s memory or for them. 

 

“Not here, Sam.”

 

Sam nods, brushes his fingers across his brother’s headstone, then he gets to his feet, helps Jensen up, and they head to the car. 

 

It doesn’t take long for Sam to find them a motel, and Jensen uses his Visa to check them in. He barely gets the key in the door before Sam’s got him slammed up against it, that long, hard, lean body pressed firm against his as Sam’s tongue slips past Jensen’s lips and all of his defenses. 

 

They stumble inside the room, the room key landing somewhere on the floor, the door kicked shut behind Sam, and Jensen reaches behind Sam, having enough presence of mind to twist the deadbolt and put the chain up before Sam manhandles him across the room and they land in a tangle of limbs and a mass of sexual tension on the lone bed in the room. 

 

Sam’s hands are warm as they glide up Jensen’s flat belly and beneath his shirt. Jensen’s breath hitches as calloused fingers glide up his chest and stumble across his nipples, and Sam takes his mouth again. Sam kisses like a drowning man who’s resurfaced newly baptized. 

 

Sam pulls back mouthing and nuzzling his nose along Jensen’s jaw and throat, and then teeth are firmly latched at the spot where Jensen’s neck meets shoulder and Jensen knows there will be a mark there later. Sam is marking him, claiming him, and Jensen’s body trembles at the thought of belonging to Samuel Winchester. 

 

Sam’s large hands work their way back down to Jensen’s pants. Sam unbuckles Jensen’s belt, jerks it free of the loops, and then unbuttons Jensen’s blue jeans. Jensen squirms at the sound of his zipper, and his eyes fall on Sam as Sam begins to tug Jensen’s jeans down. Jensen reaches down and catches Sam’s wrist. Sam gives him a look of confusion.

 

“You’ve seen me countless times. I want to see you first,” Jensen replies.

 

Sam’s face burns crimson, and he takes in a shaky breath and chews on his bottom lip for a moment, frozen in indecision. “Why do you want to see me? I’m not perfect. I only have Jared’s face. The rest of me… I’m scarred. Broken and only half assed patched up. Why do you want to see that?”

 

“Because Jared is my best friend, but he’s not you. He never will be. And you’re the one I want, the one I want to see and get to know. I… I… Just, please? Can I see you? Look at you, touch you the way I want to?” Jensen asks, suddenly unsure of himself.

 

Sam pulls back and sits on the edge of the bed. He’s shaking again. Jensen sits up, and then scoots toward Sam. He presses himself against Sam’s back, lets his chin rest on Sam’s shoulder, his lips brush Sam’s throat and then he’s whispering against Sam’s ear. “I wanna show you what you’ve done to me the last two years. I know I don’t know much about you, but what I’ve seen when you took over Jared, what I’ve felt… You have to know you’re worth it, that you’re not cursed.”

 

“And now you’re psychic all of a sudden?” Sam asks with a dry chuckle.

 

“No. I just get that you’ve lost people who’ve meant the world to you. I lost a friend once, he was like a brother to me. It was hard working through that. You’ve lost more than me, so much more, but I do understand loss. And you’re amazing Sam. Every mark on your body is a mark you got saving someone’s life. That’s incredible. It’s something to be proud of.”

 

Jensen’s hands find their way to Sam’s waist, slip beneath his shirt, and run up Sam’s stomach, his left fingers slipping along the raised scar tissue there. Sam swallows, and while Jensen can’t see his face, he knows Sam’s eyes are closed.

 

“Where did this one come from?” Jensen asks, his voice soft, deep, curious.

 

Sam’s breath hitches at the gentle touch. His head falls back to land on Jensen’s shoulder, his Adam’s apple bobs. 

 

“Gordon Walker has an interesting way of trying to get information out of people. He wanted to know if I knew anything about the other psychics like me. He used a knife to make shallow cuts at first, but then he got frustrated. He had to burn the wound shut to keep me from bleeding out. I was weak then, my powers still developing, not to mention he drugged me, so I couldn’t really defend myself tied to a chair.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jensen whispers, and he pulls away, then twists so that he’s in front of Sam, and is guiding Sam to lie back on the bed.

 

He straddles Sam, and lifts up the layers of hoodie and t-shirt that Sam insists on wearing. More scars are revealed. Jensen traces over the long cut low on Sam’s abdomen. 

 

“Knife wound. Dean got into a bar fight after he hit on some guy’s girlfriend. I got in the middle when I saw the guy had a knife because Dean was too drunk off of his ass to do much damage at that point. Dean never got that drunk again.”

 

Jensen nods and moves on to the next one, mapping out Sam’s scars, tracing some with his fingers and others with his tongue, and he loves the sounds that get caught in Sam’s throat, when his breath hitches in between an explanation of each scar as Jensen let’s his tongue slip along the raised and marred flesh.

 

Finally he traces over the claw and bite marks along Sam’s back and chest. The scars from the last job Sam ever did. Jensen’s fingers slip along the dips of the bite marks in Sam’s shoulder, and Sam sighs. “Hellhounds. There was a pack of them, six in all. I got ‘em, but one, the last one left, bit me, and a hellhound’s saliva is poison if it hits the bloodstream. I barely made it to the Roadhouse before the fever set in. I think I managed to fight it off for a week, but once it’s inside it’ll kill you. Ellen tried so hard to save me, hell even Jo was by my side. Ice baths, cold cloths, holy water, chicken soup, the works. I don’t remember it all, but I just finally closed my eyes, and when I opened them again I was in California. I wondered around Palo Alto for a while, retracing the places where Jess and I liked to hang out, and then for some reason I moved on to LA. I saw this man in a café ordering coffee. I could have sworn he was my brother, except Dean wouldn’t order something as pansy assed as a latte, and he’d been dead for over a year.”

 

Jensen presses a kiss to the scars of the bite marks, and then his mouth finds Sam, tongue slipping into Sam’s mouth, twisting around Sam’s tongue, drinking in the very life and breath of Sam Winchester.

 

Jensen pulls back, panting. “You followed me after that. All those times I’d feel a draft or the curtains shifted or my shower suddenly went cold. Little nudges to keep me awake. It was all you. And then I got the job on Supernatural. I was going to audition for Sam but on the day of my second call back the script for the pilot fell open and only the lines for Dean were highlighted and I just sort of slipped into his character. That was you.”

 

Sam nods. “Guilty.”

 

“You’re one sneaky bastard, Sammy,” Jensen says, and then his eyes widen, wondering if he’s gone too far.

 

Sam’s breath hitches, and emotions flash through his bright green eyes, and then Sam has Jensen’s face between his hands and he’s dragging the older man down into a kiss. When Sam finally allows him up for air, Sam says, “Story time’s over. Now it’s time for some hands on.”

 

Jensen nods a little dazed. He comes back to himself quickly enough when Sam’s hand finds its way into his boxers and wraps around his aching erection. Jensen bucks into Sam’s hand and presses his forehead against Sam’s shoulder, his teeth finding purchase at the base of Sam’s throat. There’s a vibration beneath Jensen’s teeth as Sam lets out a moan. 

 

Sam’s thumb is against the head of his cock smearing the precum. Jensen feels a tremble make its way up his spine like a bolt of lightening, and he grabs Sam’s wrists and shakes his head. 

 

“This is for you,” he whispers as he pulls Sam’s hand away and kisses his way down Sam’s chest, licking gently at the scars he’s already mapped out, laving at Sam’s nipples, and nipping and sucking along Sam’s abdomen and happy trail until his trembling fingers work open Sam’s worn blue jeans, and then he’s pulling the jeans and boxers down Sam’s long legs and working his way back up, noticing a burn on Sam’s right calf similar to the burn over the brand on his left arm where he’d been marked by a demon and had the mark broken. 

 

Jensen’s hand wraps around the base of Sam’s cock and Sam lets out a gasp as he shifts and rolls his hips a little. Jensen slants his gaze toward Sam as he lowers his head, his tongue flickering over the tip of Sam’s cock. He rolls his tongue teasingly around the head, salty and bitter but so sinfully tempting a taste, flickers his tongue beneath the crown and Sam squirms and moans, and then Jensen wraps his lips around Sam’s cock and goes down until his mouth meets up with his hand, his tongue working wetly along the throbbing vein on the underside of Sam’s impressive cock. 

 

He pushes down on Sam’s right hip with his free hand to keep Sam from thrusting up too much as he works out a rhythm. Slow and steady at first, just going down with lazy licks while massaging the base of Sam’s cock with his right hand. He smiles around Sam’s cock at the sounds that Sam is making, the whining, groaning whimpers, going straight to Jensen’s cock, precum staining his boxers, but this is about Sam, and if getting Sam off is affecting him so profoundly, well that’s just a really sweet bonus. 

 

When he’s sure that he can handle the stuttering rhythm of Sam’s thrusts he moves his hands to Sam’s balls, cupping and massaging them, which makes Sam buck up a little roughly, but Jensen’s determination is stronger than his gag reflex. 

 

Sam’s hand slips into Jensen’s short hair as Jensen bobs his head up and down Sam’s cock, his right hand working Sam’s balls while his left hand slips beneath Sam, his left index finger lazily stroking the cleft of Sam’s ass and teasing Sam’s entrance.

 

Sam jolts at the feel of the finger and then there’s a moan tearing free of his throat as he stiffens and comes. Jensen gets a taste and swallows before he pulls back, closes his eyes and groans as Sam’s warm, wet release splashes across his face and into his hair. He licks at his lips and waits until Sam’s hand slips across his eyelids before he opens them, and then he’s being pulled up Sam’s body, Sam’s tongue licking away the traces of his own release from Jensen’s face, moaning with pleasure, and then their lips meet and Jensen can taste Sam’s come on Sam’s tongue, and he can’t remember anything so hot occurring in his life before this moment.

 

As he pulls back to get some air he feels Sam’s hand reach inside his boxers and pull him out, the silk almost chafing the base of his erection, but he’s way more focused on the fact that Sam’s huge ass hand is wrapped around him, and it’s Sam’s hand all calluses, and broken, blunt fingernails, and rough padded fingers that hide a gentle touch. 

 

He groans and lets his head fall forward to the crook of Sam’s shoulder, his breathing heavy.

 

“Look at me, Jen,” Sam says, and Jensen looks up, and Sam continues, “Want you in me. Want you to know that I’m yours and no one else’s.”

 

Jensen sucks in a shuddering breath, his eyes wide at the magnitude of what Sam’s asking. Wondering if Sam is sure about all of this.

 

“Of course I’m sure,” Sam replies with a slight roll of his eyes. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t sure. And yeah, the psychic thing. You’ll get use to it.”

 

Jensen nods and then he shifts down Sam’s body, sucking his fingers into his mouth to wet them as the occasion merits. Sam tries to roll over, but Jensen stops him. “If I do this I want to see you, want you to see me, and know it’s me.”

 

Sam nods, and smiles at him, a small simple smile, and Jensen’s pretty sure that he’s got his work cut out for him if he wants to see that smile on Sam’s face all of the time, because making Sam smile is beginning to look like a real hands on twenty-four/seven kind of job. 

 

He’s careful, slowly slipping his finger in knuckle deep, and waiting from Sam to adjust before he slips it in all the way. Sam wiggles against the intrusion and then shoots a look down at Jensen that clearly says, ‘I can fucking take it, so buck up and be a man. Fuck me already.’

 

It isn’t long after that look that Jensen manages to get three fingers in Sam and brush against Sam’s prostate making the taller man nearly come up off of the bed with every stroke. Sam’s cock is at attention again, and Jensen is dying to be wrapped tight inside of Sam. 

 

Out of nowhere a bottle of lube comes floating into Jensen’s line of sight. His eyes widen for a moment and he pauses to look at Sam who is clearly amused. Jensen lets out a huff, takes the lube, coats his cock, and wonders if maybe he should find a condom. Sam rolls his eyes at him.

 

“You’ve been living like a monk for the last two years, and I was there when you got the results from your last test. It’s okay, Jen. I trust you. I know you’re clean, now come on,” Sam says the last little bit with a whine coloring his voice.

 

Jensen takes in a sharp breath, positions himself, his cock nudging at Sam’s entrance. Their eyes lock and then Sam gives a nod and Jensen thrusts inside without further preamble, no pausing, just a straight thrust until his hips meet Sam’s ass, and Sam gives a jerk and a shudder as Jensen fills him and brushes his prostate all in one strong first thrust. 

 

Jensen pulls out and thrusts in again, reveling in the feel of Sam’s tight warmth and Sam’s ragged, blunt nails digging into his hips, encouraging him further. Jensen bends down, his mouth colliding with Sam’s as he continues to thrust and wraps his hand around Sam’s reawakened cock. His tongue slips past Sam’s parted mouth, swiping along Sam’s tongue and then sweeping across the roof of Sam’s mouth, and when he pulls back Sam’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and he tugs it a little. Sam whimpers at that and squirms on Jensen’s cock, and Jensen feels the tingle at the base of his spine and the molten heat shifting in his belly. He knows he’s going to come soon. 

 

Jensen pulls back, his spine arched as he buries himself again in Sam’s tight warmth, and his cock gives a warming twitch before he comes, hard and heavy in Sam’s ass, and Sam groans as Jensen continues with shallow thrusts, riding out his orgasm, Sam’s name tearing loose from his throat like thready prayers of desperation and fulfillment all at once.

 

Jensen’s hand tightens reflexively on Sam’s cock as he begins to come down a little from the post orgasmic bliss, his hand slick with Sam’s precum and their combined sweat. He bends down and lazily kisses Sam, Sam’s cock caught between their bodies and Jensen’s hand, and Jensen’s thumb nail teases the slit on the head and Sam jerks his head back from the kiss as he bucks up and comes, spilling across Jensen’s hand and between their bodies.

 

“Jensen!” he lets out in a howl.

 

“That’s it, baby,” Jensen croons by Sam’s ear, nibbling Sam’s earlobe before continuing. “Come for me. Only for me.”

 

Sam falls back onto the bed, panting, trying to get his breathing back to some semblance of normal as Jensen carefully pulls out of him and curls up next to him. Their legs somehow get tangled and Jensen’s hand falls across his chest, Jensen’s palm pressed over his heart. Sam tilts his head and meets Jensen’s sleepy gaze. Jensen leans up and places a lazy kiss on Sam’s mouth and says, “Never thought I’d have this. I’m glad some things are attainable.”

 

Sam smiles at him and simply nods. He knows the feeling.

 

\----------

 

First day back on the set, always a fun time. Kim Manners has a smile on his face as he steps into Kripke’s trailer, but finds it empty. He notices a padded envelope on the bar and sees that it’s addressed to Sam Winchester c/o Jensen Ackles. If it’s in Kripke’s trailer then it’s obviously been through security. 

 

It’s probably some joke between Jared and Jensen, although it’s odd that it’s postmarked from Kansas. Kim shrugs, and takes the package. He steps out of Kripke’s trailer figuring he’ll catch up with the boss later. 

 

As he goes to check on the lighting and set design for today’s shoot he sees Jared headed to his trailer. He catches up with Jared and hands him the package. Jared smiles at him, looks at the package and then gives Kim a strange look before he shrugs and walks into his trailer, and that takes care of that as Kim runs off to see that everything’s ready for the shoot.

 

Jared takes a seat on the couch in his trailer, stretches out and looks at the envelope addressed to Sam Winchester c/o Jensen Ackles, and it’s postmarked from Kansas. Pretty elaborate joke, but he shrugs away the thought and tears open the envelope.

 

A piece of plain, folded stationary paper flutters to the floor as Jared stares at the framed photo. It’s of someone that looks like him and Jensen dressed as Sam and Dean Winchester, but there are little things off in the photo.

 

They are leaning against the Impala, the Jared look-a-like appears guarded and has a serious expression on his face, although he’s smiling it never quite reaches his eyes, and the Jensen look-a-like is leaning against the car like a lover, there’s a cocky grin on his face, but his eyes are oddly protective and sad and he’s looking at the Jared look-a-like, not the person taking the picture.

 

There’s also a jagged scar on the Jensen look-a-like’s throat, like some wild animal had tried to rip it open. 

 

He and Jensen have never done a photo shoot like this, and he wonders where the photo came from. Maybe it’s something from a fan. The photo doesn’t look like it has been manipulated. It looks like a simple 5x7 in a dark wooden frame.

 

He bends down and picks up the piece of paper that came with the photo. He unfolds it and his eyes widen at the elegant, neat handwriting.

 

Enjoy your normal, and be happy Sam. Dean and your Daddy and Momma would want that for you. And tell that actor to keep you fed. You’re much too skinny, honey. Call me sometime, and you better come round to visit soon, cause I want to meet this Jensen for myself.

 

Love,

Missouri

 

PS- You’re too nosy for your own good Mr. Padalecki. See to it this gets to Sam and Jensen.

 

He refolds the note, wonders what the hell is going on and decides that he’ll show Jensen as soon as he shows up on set. Bastard always does run late on the first day.

 

\----------

 

Jensen shuts off the engine of the Impala, pulls his beanie down further on his head to cover the tips of his ears and shifts his gaze over to Sam. He wonders if this is a good idea, having Sam on set, but in all honesty Sam has always been on set. At the very least Kripke shouldn’t mind. 

 

He gets out of the car, and Sam follows, closing the door behind him. They walk across the parking lot to the set, and Sam slips his arm around Jensen, and the people from the crew stop to greet them. Jensen says hello, and while Sam is polite, he’s not very open with them. 

 

Finally Jensen stops, turns to face Sam and says, “If you’re not comfortable, it’s okay. You can hang out in my trailer. I’ll see you in between takes.”

 

Sam shakes his head. “No. It’s just that now everyone can see me. I’m still trying to get used to being around people again. Being dead is kind of like being constantly ignored, and now everyone notices me. Just takes some getting use to is all.”

 

“Well, just keep an eye out for Jared, he’s either gonna prank you or be all over you like an excited puppy or something, okay?” Jensen asks.

 

Sam snorts. “I’m only interested in one person being all over me.”

 

“Good, because that’s how I like it,” Jensen says with a smile, and he’s caught off guard as Sam pulls him close and kisses him, and like always he loses himself in Sam’s lips, and doesn’t realize that he’s kissing Sam in front of the entire crew until Sam pulls back and he feels everyone staring at them.

 

“Christ! Always thought you two had a thing going,” Shawn, one of the sound guys, says.

 

Sam flushes bright red, and then the sound of a trailer door flying open is heard and Jared’s stepping out, calling out to Jensen and then he freezes upon seeing Sam, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open.

 

A murmur begins among the crew, but Kripke comes up from the woodwork and tells everyone to get back to work. He gives a nod of acknowledgement to Sam, a sharp gaze at Jensen and a pitying look toward Jared before he heads off to find Kim Manners and discuss the last scene of the season premiere.

 

“The hell?” Jared says, more out of shock than anything else.

 

Sam steps in front of Jensen, almost like he’s trying to protect him. “Hey, I’m Sam Winchester.”

 

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Jared asks and moves his head to look around Sam and pointedly at Jensen who steps around Sam with a sigh.

 

“No, Jay. He’s not. That time you woke up in bed with me, that was Sam’s doing. Look man, it’s kinda complicated, but Sam died, and he’s been haunting me for the last couple of years,” Jensen replies.

 

“Looks pretty alive to me.”

 

“Bobby brought me back after Jensen brought him some of your blood. So guess that means we’re kind of brothers now. I mean it was your blood that brought me back,” Sam offers.

 

Jared snorts. “You mean when you visited me during hiatus?”

 

Jensen blushes. “Yeah,” Jensen says. “Look I’ll explain later over a few beers, but right now we gotta get to make-up and wardrobe and I’ve got to figure out what Sam’s going to be doing all day.”

 

“So the car. Christ, that’s really THE Impala?” Jared continues, like Jensen hadn’t said a word and then he stares in awe at Sam. “Wow. And you two, are like what now?”

 

“We’ve sort of been binded,” Sam says and takes Jensen’s hand, and then he cocks his head at Jared and adds, “You have something for me.”

 

Jared shakes his head to clear it and suddenly the photo and the note makes a lot more sense now. He nods and holds out the photo and the note. Sam takes it from Jared. He looks at the photo with a wistful smile, trailing his fingers over Dean, before he flips open the note and reads, his smile brightening as he takes in a breath slowly.

 

Jensen steps up behind him and looks down at the photo. “Damn, he was a handsome bastard. That’s really Dean?”

 

Sam lets out a small laugh and nods. “Yeah. But he never had a birthmark shaped like a horseshoe on his ass.”

 

Jared’s eyes widen at the insinuation and then Sam jolts forward and Jensen runs off. Sam takes off not far behind Jensen, and Jared shakes his head, a goofy grin on his face, because for once Jensen looks completely at ease like he’s not guarding some huge secret, and it’s nice to see his friend so carefree for once. Of course this won’t stop the game of twenty million questions he’s already planning in his head. And maybe Sam will give him a few pointers on his character’s motivations. Still it’s kind of weird, but what can one expect from working on a show like Supernatural?

 

As it is, Jared heads on over to make-up. About ten minutes later Jensen comes stumbling in, all breathless, his cheeks flushed and his lips chapped, his hair a mess. Looks like Sam might have caught up with him.

 

Jared looks at him for a minute and then busts out laughing, the make-up girl rolling her eyes and pursing her lips in annoyance as she tries to reduce the shine on the end of his nose while attempting to cover up one of Jared’s moles, even though the act is futile. Jared’s just going to wipe the make up away anyway, seems he’s proud of his moles. Jensen plops down in the seat next to Jared, and grins. 

 

“So, you and Sam Winchester. What do you think Dean would have to say about that?” Jared asks, a playful grin twisting his lips.

 

“I haven’t gotten my ass kicked yet,” Jensen answers with a shrug and a twinkle in his eye and he remembers something Sam said earlier as he woke up.

 

“And may the darkness anchor my soul no more, the shadows may roam, for free am I all my trespasses to atone.”

 

Jensen wonders where Sam heard that, and maybe someday Sam will tell him. After all they have their whole lives ahead of them to look forward too.

 

End.


End file.
